[LoZ] Full Frontal Assault

Urbosa heard the commotion from several rooms away, despite being in the relatively soundproof bathing room. She rose from her claw-footed tub, taking the towel Ibis offered with a smile.

“Whatever is going on out there?” she asked.

“Shall I find out?” Ibis – her attendant – asked, one hand drifting to the dagger slipped into her fine sash. She was, like nearly everyone else in Gerudo, fully trained with a weapon.

“No. I’ll do it myself.” Urbosa wrapped the towel around her body, tucking the edges where necessary, and lifted her blade from a nearby rack. Puddles grew beneath her feet, but no matter. The desert air would always dry it soon enough. “Fetch my robe and find me.”

“Of course.” Ibis bowed and hurried away, already barking orders to all within the sound of her voice. Quick and efficient. It was one of many reasons Urbosa had chosen her for the much-sought after position.

Outside, the commotion grew louder and more intense. Shouts. Curses. Multiple boots pounding across the tiled floors. Weapons rattling in sheaths.

Urbosa slipped out of the private baths and joined the stream of Gerudo warriors heading toward the guest quarters where she had left Princess Zelda to rest with her protective retinue. The warriors parted as she drew closer, dripping soapy water, and Urbosa pushed to the front, blade raised and at the ready.

There was a man laying on the ground in the hallway, amid the shattered remains of a door, Gerudo facepaint smeared from his face and the tattered remnants of a Yiga mask draped over his neck. A goose egg of a bruise darkened his forehead, and one of the thick, historical tomes lay near his head, pages scattered in all directions.

Sarja had an arrow pointed at his chest, which rose and fell in stuttered bursts. He lived, but not for much longer if Sarja had her say.

“What in Nabooru’s name happened here?” Urbosa demanded as she stepped over the sprawled Yiga and through the now agape doorway of Zelda’s quarters.

Link crouched amid a mess of books and papers spread across the floor, gathering them carefully into his arms. His charge stood nearby, the tips of Princess Zelda’s ears red as she tangled her fingers together.

“A Yiga assassination attempt would be my guess,” Zelda said with a sad look at her disordered books. Ink stained her fingertips. “It was unsuccessful.”

“I’ll say.” Urbosa tucked her blade into her towel and turned to her nearest warriors. “You two make sure there are no others lurking about. And you, take the prisoner to the dungeon. I’ll deal with him later.”

“At once, Lady Urbosa!”

They scrambled to do as she asked while Urbosa returned her attention to Link and Princess Zelda, the latter of whom had joined her bodyguard in gathering up the papers and books scattered over the colorful tile. The princess sighed as she picked up a particularly bent page.

“It was wise of me to keep Link close, I see,” Urbosa said with an approving glance at the small soldier. “The Yiga are getting bolder.”

Neither of the two Hylians would lift their gazes to her, and both of them were turning as red as a tomato like they’d spent too much time in the sun.

“It’s a rather amusing story, but I am actually the one who dispatched of the Yiga,” Zelda said with a quiet laugh.

Urbosa blinked. “It was you, little bird?”

The Princess rose with an armful of books and began lining them back up on the shelves. “He took me by surprise, you see, and all I had available to me were the research materials.” She glanced toward the hallway. “I apologize for the tome, by the way. I hope I didn’t ruin the pages.”

Hm.

The book. The bruise. The unconscious Yiga.

Urbosa smiled, pride rising up within her. “You dispatched of the assassin with a book?”

“I did, though if I had not been startled, I would have reached for an actual weapon I think,” Zelda said with a little laugh.

“And where were you?” Urbosa demanded of Link who had now joined Zelda at the shelves, books stacked high in his arms as he waited for the princess to put them where she preferred.

Zelda wrinkled her nose. “Outside the door, of course. It wouldn’t be proper otherwise.”

Link grimaced and rolled one of his shoulders, where perhaps he’d been struck by pieces of the door as the Yiga came hurtling through it.

“I see,” Urbosa said as ibis arrived with a robe at last, and Urbosa shrugged out of her towel, replacing it with the robe. “Then I shall have one of my warriors stay in your quarters to defer to your Hylian sensibilities.”

Both Zelda and Link made strangled noises, the bridge of their noses stained pink, as they stared hard at the shelves.

“That would be fair,” the princess said with a faintness to her voice. “I thank you for
seeing to my safety.”

Urbosa smiled. “Of course, little bird. You are my most precious guest, after all.” She tightened the sash of her robe. “Now, I’ll see to our prisoner and hopefully strip him of whatever knowledge he might carry. The two of you should get some rest. We have so much yet to do.”

“We will. Good night, Lady Urbosa.” The princess tipped her head in a polite bow, her eyes focused ever on the floor, that pretty blush spreading across her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

Link bowed even further, practically bent double, as if examining the tiles.

“Good night, little bird,” Urbosa said, and took her leave.

Hylians were so odd sometimes.

***

[LoZ] Nibble Away

“Link?”

Link lifts his head from where it’s pillowed on Sidon’s chest and looks at him with a cocked eyebrow. It’s weird to hear hesitation in Sidon’s voice. There’s very little he’s not bold enough to do or say.

A gentle finger strokes along Link’s neck and shoulder, making him shiver. “These scars,” Sidon murmurs, the spots on his tail flickering in a show of embarrassment. “They look like Zora bites, only I know I did not leave them.”

Link tries to see what Sidon is talking about, but at most, he can only see the faintest silvery lines in his right shoulder. ‘What about them?’ he asks with a lazy sign.

“Whose are they?” Sidon asks, and quickly adds, “Not because I’m jealous, of course. I’m merely curious who has been lucky enough to leave such a mark.” There’s the faintest touch of petulance in his tone.

Link sits up, straddling his larger partner’s chest, and brushes his fingers over the scars, measuring them, the ridges softened from his hundred-year sleep. He tilts his head to the side, thinking, the tip of his finger circling a particularly thick indent.

It would have hurt, he thinks, not enough to need stitches but definitely enough to–

“And you’re certain you don’t want me to heal it?”

Link shakes his head as Mipha’s damp exhales tease over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He strains in his bonds, trying to ease back into her embrace, but she stays just out of reach. Taunting him.

Mipha drags her finger down Link’s spine, the lightest of scratches, and he shivers, a heavy throb going through his body. She could easily mark him, dig a furrow into his soft flesh, but she doesn’t. Her control is too precise for that.

“Alright,” she says. “But if I think something needs a little help, I’ll give it a nudge.”

Link turns his head to give her a look. He’s not pouting, no matter what she says, but he is attempting to make his displeasure known. She doesn’t give him enough credit. He can take anything she’ll dish out.

“You’re no fun if you bleed out and fall unconscious,” she says with a little chuckle and presses a kiss to the back of his neck, at the knob of his spine. She licks it, barely a taste, her tongue a dragging rasp over his skin.

Link shivers again.

Mipha presses against him from behind, her palm flat against his chest, her body warm and slick against his. Her skin is both rough and smooth, and Link wonders if he’ll ever memorize her enough to know which is which without looking.

“Will it be enough to make you spill?” she asks as she mouths at his neck and shoulder, tongue flicking out in licks, teeth lightly grazing. She hasn’t drawn blood yet, and he aches for it.

Her palm slides down and down, until it cups the thick of him with a careful squeeze. Link groans, rocking into her touch, the ropes creaking as he tugs on them. He throbs, pre dribbling from the tip and dirtying her hand.

“I think it might,” Mipha murmurs, carefully curving around him, her thumb rubbing across the wet head. “Especially if I do this.”

She exhales, hot and wet, and then there’s the delicious sting of her teeth against his skin, a light graze at first, then a deeper bite. Blood trickle down his shoulder, the hot rasp of her tongue against the imprint of her teeth, and lust shoots through him like a bolt of lighting.

He jerks, moaning, and he’s spilling all over her hands, throbbing in heavy pulses, again and again and again and–

–oh.

Link blinks out of the memory, flushed to the roots of his hair and the tips of his ear. He doesn’t have to look down to realize he’s hard again, his cock rising eagerly at the apex of his thighs.

Sidon’s looking at him, his hands on Link’s hips, his thumbs teasing the sharp jut of his hipbones. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, as if Link’s brief flash out of reality had been hesitation or refusal. “Your past is your business.”

Hah.

Link barely remembers his past. It rises in fits and bursts, flashes of insight, bits and pieces of memory that feel like another person, a different Hylian named Link.

Sometimes, he’s not sure he even remembers how to be a person, or how to interact socially. But he knows this much.

Now is absolutely not the time to tell Sidon who made those scars on his shoulder.

“Later,” Link signs with a quick flick of his fingers. He rocks his hips, leaning forward to rest his hands on Sidon’s chest and put his face in close proximity with a grin.

“Oh, I see,” Sidon says, and he rumbles a little growl that vibrates through his chest, smiling a gleaming smile with a mouth full of teeth. “Perhaps I can have a little nibble this time then?”

Link grins and tilts his head to the side, offering his other, unmarked shoulder. It’ll be nice to have a matched set.

Sidon’s eyes dilate, the little spots on his tail flickering in faster succession. “Excellent.”

There’ll be time to talk about the past later. Link is more interested in right now.

***

[LoZ] Decoy

Link glances at the modest fabric proudly displayed to him, to Zelda’s face, and back to the fabric again. He blinks.

“We’re going to set a trap,” Zelda says, making the dress sway in front of Link.

Yes, Link understands that she wants to set a trap. He also understands the point of the item dangling from her fingertips.

“The Yiga are trying to kill me,” Zelda reminds him, as if he’s forgotten. “They won’t be able to resist if they see me wandering alone, without my faithful knight, especially if their sources tell them my knight is elsewhere.”

Link continues to stare.

“I swear I’ve lost count of the times people have confused us,” Zelda says with a sigh and a toss of her much longer hair. “It can’t be that hard to fool the Yiga.”

Link works his jaw. He folds his arms and glares at the dress. Yes, he gets it. What he doesn’t understand is why Zelda has chosen this dress she’s never worn before in their entire acquaintance as the item Link should wear as a decoy and not, for example, her current outfit which everyone would recognize as her traveling clothes.

It’s damn hard to fight in a dress.

“So you’ll be me, and I’ll be you, and you can just whistle when the Yiga attack, or you can take care of them yourself.” Zelda eyes him and offers a helpless shrug. “After Calamity Ganon, I doubt you’ll so much as break into a sweat.”

Zelda tilts her head, lips pressing together in brief contemplation. “You know, I’ll bet if we lay this trap somewhere near the Zora Domain, I can rope Prince Sidon into helping.” She flashes him a knowing grin, her eyebrows waggling. “He’s always eager to impress.”

Link huffs and snatches the dress out of her hands, his fingers flicking through the air in a sharp negative.

“Awww, you know he’s going to think you’re really cute in that dress!” Zelda calls after him as he stomps behind the changing screen. “He’s going to be disappointed if he doesn’t at least get a peek.”

The gesture Link throws back at her is not suitable for polite company, much less the Princess of Hyrule, but Zelda’s giggle means she’s not at all offended. Besides, she endured a hundred years keeping Calamity Ganon from destroying the rest of Hyrule. A rude gesture is hardly the worst of what she’s seen.

Link holds up the dress behind the safety of the screen and wrinkles his nose. It’s got long, flowy arms and it’s purple and white with far too many accents. There’s some light armoring on the shoulders, but honestly, it’s going to get in the way more than it’s going to protect him.

Link sighs and starts to change.

“I’m so glad you agreed, Link!” Zelda calls out to him, and no one believes Link when he tries to tell them how positively evil Zelda is. “I’ve got the rest of the outfit out here, and I already know what to do with your hair. You might need some practice with the shoes.”

Shoes?

Link looks down at his well worn boots. Yes, they do clash with the dress, but will the Yiga even notice? This dress is so long it brushes along the ground. It’s going to get filthy.

It fits a little too well.

Link narrows his eyes.

He stomps out from behind the screen and plants his hands on his hips, fixing Zelda with a glare. He doesn’t have to sign, because she knows exactly why he’s annoyed, judging by the devilish grin.

“Your shoulders are a teensy bit broader than mine, of course I had to have the dress altered,” Zelda says, and waves away his irritation. “Hylia, I’m a bit jealous. I think you look better in that than I ever did.” She holds out the shoes — a pair of strappy, delicate heels.

Link lifts the dress to show off his boots and lets it fall again, proving that they are very well hidden by the fall of the fabric.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of these that easily. You’re shorter than me, remember? This has to be convincing, Link.” She clasps her hands together, looking ever so earnest. “I’d hate for the Yiga to attack me when I’m alone because they see through our ruse.”

… damn it.

Link grabs the shoes. Zelda grins.

She’s lucky he’s fond of her safety. Heels are the worst to fight in. He doesn’t know how Urbosa did it.

***

[LoZ] Share and Share Alike

“Why is it you always look better in these clothes than I do?” Zelda grumbles as she tucks the last tie of Link’s veil into place, and he looks out at her over the purple silk, blue eyes brilliantly lined with kohl.

He shrugs.

She sighs. “Worse that you don’t even realize it.”

“You look beautiful,” Link signs and gives her a thumbs up.

Dork.

Zelda smiles behind her own veil. “Thank you,” she says, squeezing his hand. “Now let’s go meet with Riju before she sends out a search party.”

It would be easier if an exception could be made for Link, but no, those aren’t the rules. So in disguise he must be, and if he’s in disguise, Zelda must don one of her own. Otherwise people might question the lovely lady at her side, and wonder where Link has gone.

Link nods.

And they walk through the front gate without any of the Gerudo guards blinking twice at them.

No, that is inaccurate. They give both Link and Zelda appreciative looks and smiles and approving glances at their choice in attire, but they don’t question whether or not they belong.

Zelda tries not to stare herself, really she does. But after spending one-hundred years trapped in a castle with Ganon’s calamitous stench, and then spending the last several months wandering all across Hyrule, being in a tropical location and surrounded by so many lovely women is a wonderful change of pace.

The Gerudo are all so friendly! They call out to her, compliment her, try to offer her beautiful clothes and jewels. Link, too, gets his fair share of greetings, but his comes with a degree of familiarity from his previous travels here. He knows more than a few of the Gerudo by name, and it’s honestly going to take ages for them to get to the palace, because Link stops and introduces Zelda to everyone he recognizes.

Isha, in particular, draws Zelda’s eye, and she finds herself flushing beneath the concealment of her veil. Why are all of the Gerudo so beautiful and strong? Zelda wants desperately to get to the palace, if only so she can catch her breath and stop imagining all of the many ways she could find her pleasure with someone here.

It doesn’t help that they are equally interested in her.

“Such fair skin you have,” Isha clucks, but her smile is warm, her hands equally so as she holds Zelda’s and strokes her fingers along the inside of her wrist. “I can think of many ways to adorn you, Zelda. You must watch yourself here. The desert sun can be merciless.”

“Pah! Link’s skin is equally fair, and she’s fine,” says Cara, Isha’s business partner. She touches the earrings dangling from Link’s right lobe. “We made these, yes? They look beautiful on you, as we thought they might.”

Link’s turning pink behind his own veil, and he scuttles a little closer to Zelda’s side. They exchange a knowing look, and Zelda’s eyebrows crawl toward her hairline. She should’ve known he’d be as susceptible to the Gerudo as she is.

“We really must be going,” Zelda says, trying to nudge them toward an escape, but Isha’s hand is still wrapped around hers, and Zelda is very weak.

“You are in a hurry?” Isha asks.

“That’s unfortunate,” Cara says. “We thought you might join us for a drink. Furosa has something new at the Noble Canteen. Created in honor of Link’s heroic actions in helping calm the Divine Beast.”

Link taps her on the shoulder and tilts his head toward the palace, signing “Riju” with quick flicks of his fingers.

“Another time perhaps,” Zelda says, reluctantly disengaging from Isha. “We have a prior engagement with Lady Riju.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” says Isha with a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes, her hand landing on her hip, and Zelda forcing her gaze to remain northward rather than roaming over Isha’s warm curves and strong thighs.

“I shall have something for the both of you,” Cara says, tapping her chin with one manicured finger. “Items of beauty to match.”

Link signs ‘thank you’ and starts to look a little desperate. Zelda’s feeling a bit like if she doesn’t escape now, she’s going to end up making a fool of herself.

“Thank you very much,” she says, and backs out the door, Link in tow.

They don’t run to the palace, but it’s a near thing.

“Whatever happens, we share, right?” Zelda asks once there’s a bit of distance between them and the two Gerudo in Starlight Memories.

Link nods, the tips of his ears bright red.

“So long as we agree,” Zelda says.

Goodness, she had no idea a simple diplomatic visit would prove to be so darn tempting. The next few days are going to be torture.

***

[LoZ] Reckless Behaviors

It is very late, and very quiet, and very empty of other Zora. Most of the guards have focused their patrols on external threats since King Dorephan has gone to bed.

Still.

This is quite possibly one of the most reckless things Sidon has ever done. He should not be so surprised it was Link’s idea.

“We’re going to get caught,” he whispers as Link climbs into his lap as deftly as he climbs anything and everything large in his periphery.

Honestly, Sidon has often wondered if Link is not part-cat.

Link shakes his head, grabs Sidon’s hands, and places them on his waist. He grins, eyes sparkling, and does a little roll of his hips that makes Sidon groan. Quietly. Very, very quietly.

He glances toward the door of the throne room, but it remains firmly shut, and the guards on the other side of it. The lights have been dimmed so that only the barest minimum offer any illumination, and Sidon knows the guards don’t patrol in this room once his father has retired for the evening.

But they will investigate any noises, should they happen to catch them on their way past.

“I think you want to get caught,” Sidon murmurs as he rubs his thumbs over Link’s hipbones and then circles them inward, toward the thickening bulge at his groin.

Link grins at him, hair wild across his face because of course he’d flown in from the top of the tower and nearly landed on top of Sidon’s head. There’s a smudge of what is quite possibly soot on his cheek — bomb fishing again no doubt — and there’s a faint smell of blood around him. There are fewer and fewer creatures to fight these days, what with Calamity Ganon defeated, but Link is always the first to step up when some monster gets out of hand.

“That’s part of the fun,” he signs before his sword-calloused palms land on Sidon’s lower abdomen and slide further down, fingers seeking Sidon’s slit with unerring accuracy.

Sidon doesn’t yelp, but it’s a near thing. Link’s exuding heat like he’s been riding wildfire updrafts, and he won’t stop squirming in Sidon’s lap.

The throne is the one item in all of Zora’s Domain that lets Sidon feel small. His feet dangle over the edge. There’s far too much room in the seat, and the back looms over him like the weight of the crown he’ll eventually have to wear.

But right now.

Right now Link squirms in his lap, and one hand strokes around Sidon’s slit while the other tugs at Link’s plain trousers, unlacing the thick ties to free himself. He’s flushed beneath the soot, and his tongue flicks over his lips, wetting them.

He’s a creature who can’t be tamed, wild and unruly, and Sidon wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We need to be quick and quiet,” Sidon says, but it’s more of a gasp because Link is stroking him perfectly, coaxing his claspers from his slit.

Sidon grasps the arm of the throne to keep from squeezing Link, hips bucking up into Link’s grip. Link grins at him, mischief damcomg in his eyes, as he takes a clasper in each hand and strokes Sidon from root to tip, Sidon’s own slick easing the way.

Sidon gnaws on his lip to keep from crying out. “You are determined to get us caught, my dear,” he whispers urgently, a low growl building in his chest.

Link laughs, the little thrill-seeker. He squeezes the base of Sidon’s claspers, and Sidon jerks beneath him, stifling a moan at the last second. The arms of the throne creak beneath his grip, talons scraping tiny furrows on the surface.

Father is most certainly going to notice those, damn it.

He drags in a shuddery breath and fumbles at Link, only for Link to bat his hand away and take his own length in hand. Right then. It’s probably better if Sidon holds the throne anyway. Link is far sturdier than any Hylian, but Sidon still takes care. He would never wish to add to the burden of scars on Link’s body.

Especially when Link smirks up at him like that, rolls forward, and presses the thick length of his cock between Sidon’s claspers. The heat of him against Sidon’s flesh is divine, and Sidon growls long and low in his throat. It echoes around the throne room, certain to attract the attention of anyone who might be listening.

Link’s smirk does things to Sidon’s heart. Especially when he starts to move, rocking his hips to push between Sidon’s claspers while his hands stroke the length of them, calloused thumbs riding along the ridge in the way he knows Sidon likes best.

Sidon moans and digs more furrows into the throne. This is going to be over far quicker than he thought, but that seems to be Link’s intentions, his face furrowed in concentration, his tongue between his teeth, and his skin visibly flushed. He’s the most beautiful creature Sidon has ever seen.

Honestly, Sidon no longer cares if they get caught, so long as Link doesn’t stop.

***